Post by Logan on May 18, 2011 8:31:05 GMT -5
The camera comes to life with Logan simply sitting on a chair inside his locker room. He sits ‘backwards’ on the chair, arms folded, and rested on the back end.
Logan: What IS the heart of Virginia? I’ve lived here all my life. Is Virginia THE South? Most of the Civil War was fought here. The Capital of the Confederacy was Richmond, which, is in.. Virginia. So, what does it mean to be a southern man in today’s age? Generations have passed. Centuries have passed since the Civil War. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the population today probably don’t have a fuckin’ clue rather or not they had an ancestor in the Civil War, AND, if they did – which side were they on? I ask now; would it even matter?
Once more; I have lived here all my life. I’ve seen Richmond, Norfolk, Virginia Beach, Franklin, Fork Union, Chesapeake, Farmville, Crewe, Kenbridge, Suffolk, South Hill, Chase City, Chesterfield, you fuckin’ name a place in Virginia and I’ve been there at one time or another. So, again, I ask.. after all these years – why are people even still defined as ‘Southern’? Yes. I like fried chicken. Who doesn’t? I like my collard greens cooked with bacon, and, if I want.. I can go down the street from my house and buy a fried dill pickle.
But other than choice of food – what’s the difference between me and a boudle in New York eating a sauerkraut hotdog. H’m? Maybe there IS a difference.
Virginia – some of us – or where I am from - most of us, STILL find people from the North annoying. It’s all about manners. People from up North do not have them, plain and simple. You’ll find that people from the South do. It’s yes ma’am, no ma’am. Getting the door for the person in front of you or behind you. Respecting the fellow man and woman. Just, simply, being respectful through and through. It’s a culture. And anyone who isn’t from here sure would be in for one culture shock if they were to visit.
But, despite the fact that I am from Virginia, AND proud to be from Virginia – it doesn’t bother me pissing on someone’s grave, hitting a woman, kicking a helpless dog. I am the Face of Treachery. I have no value for the respect of human life. Being from the South refuses to encourage a yes ma’am or no ma’am on my part.
Simply put.. I do not like people. I hate them – rather from the South or the North. It’s petty from anyone in today’s age to even OWN a confederate flag. Oh, you’re mad that those Yankees burned down your house and stole your slaves? Get the fuck out of here. Your GREAT Granddaddy wasn’t even a sperm in someone’s ball sack when the Civil War was going on.
So, Doc Henry, after hearing this – you can honestly expect me to ask.. what’s the deal, bitch? Did you chop too much firewood as a ‘youngin’? Live off squirrel half your life? Is your Grandmomma’s recipe for fried chicken tattooed on your ass?! SHUT UP!
It doesn’t get anymore simpler than that. Here you are – a grown ass man – running around talking like you just survived the battle of Gettysburg AND just can’t fuckin’ wait to whip those Negros back into cotton-picking shape!
Do you even know a ‘person’ for that matter that’s income sources from… picking cotton? So, why the act? What’s your fuckin’ agenda? Is it even an act? Or- or – you just a lost boudle that feels comfortable in Colonial Sander neckties? M’m. Maybe I don’t what I am talking about, Doc. Maybe I have you wrong. I just call it like I see it. And, what I see; a big boudle representing an era, a generation, that ended hundreds of years ago and honestly – HONESTLY – has no idea what he truly is. You’re lost, Doc.
Let’s get a few things straight. I see past boudles like you. I think this whole Southern act, or better said.. ‘cover up’ is just a muse to hide from your true self. Deep down inside you enjoy the good company of a man… don’t you?
Pausing, Logan smirks, anxiously carrying on.
Logan: I watched Slam a few weeks ago. I seen that little hidden twinkle in your eye when you confronted the ‘Scot, and stuffed that little bottle of ketchup inside his pants. Did your hand ever so cleverly manage to innocently brush against his genital during that so called… ‘attack’? Ha, ha, ha. You’re not fooling anybody. No reason to be ashamed. It’s 2011. Everybody is doing it! M’m.. look at me? My personal assistant, my little toy is a transvestite, and you just love that don’t you? You’d like one yourself. Oh, yeah. You’ll hide behind homosexual jokes. Like Jay Price; you’ll question someone else’s sexuality just to further establish the false cover of your own.
But, deep down, behind the ain’t’s and yall’s – you just LOVE the penis, don’t you? Hehe.
Oh.. oh, and I bet.. that you’re probably so depressed that your precious Johnny Reb is on the bench and not on your lap. You’ve been up that guys ass his entire career. I recognize obsession – believe me – I’ve had my fair of such. To the day I still have a picture of Torture in my wallet. I love him. I hate him. For a long time I lived for him, my existence was for him. He was my Joker’s fuckin’ Batman. But, hey, we move on… or do we?
A wink is cut into the camera.
Logan: Don’t worry, Doc. Your boyfriend will return one day. And, when he does, you’ll be able to get right back into the heat of things like ‘yall’ never skipped a beat. M’m.. makes me a little jealous. What do you think Torture is doing right now? H’m – er – SHUT UP! Now, the present, that’s the focus. And just because that perhaps I see your world in a different light than others, the true light, perhaps, do not feel too embarrassed. Like I said – in this day and age – everyone is perfectly okay with YOU being YOU. If it’s the male privates that your taste buds crave then so be it – I’m not one to judge.
Logan’s locker room door busts open – and in pours the ‘Scot, literally, pours – he’s dancing in, shaking a Pabst Blue Ribbon all over the room, splashing beer everywhere.
the ‘Scot: Did someone just sayyy male privates?
Logan can’t help but laugh.
Logan: Hey, man – what’re you doing? Did the penisdar start beeping?
the ‘Scot: You know I can’t help –
Burp.
the ‘Scot: - myself. LOGAN!!!
The ‘Scot stumbles over towards Logan, however, stops short once noticing the camera.
the ‘Scot: Ohhh.. promo?
Logan nods.
the ‘Scot: For Doc Henry?
Logan nods, again.
the ‘Scot: What does Doc Henry have to do with male privates?
Logan: Well, ‘Scotty –
Pressing himself up from the chair, Logan seductively approaches the ‘Scot – which causes the ‘Scot to tremble and melt.
Logan: - I believe that Doc has a little secret.
Logan grabs the ‘Scot by the hands, interlocking his fingers with his, and pinning him into the wall.
Logan: M’hm. I.. firmly..
Playing on the word firmly, a tongue darts out and Logan wets his own lips. The ‘Scot squirms with desire. His biggest dreams finally coming true.
Logan: … believe that our friend is much like yourself.
Logan grins.
Logan: Yeah.
Releasing one of the ‘Scot’s hand, Logan begins lovingly petting the ‘Scot’s face. The ‘Scot’s eyes roll back into his head.
Logan: So much like you –
Logan’s demeanor changes immediately.
Logan: A… sick… twisted.. lost.. FREAK!
A gasp hits the ‘Scot’s lips. The petting dies, and Logan forcefully slaps the ‘Scot across the face – which triggers an emotionally driven orgasm on the ‘Scot’s behalf. Logan wraps his hand around the ‘Scot’s hair, throwing him down to the floor, ripping his body from his wig. Logan throws the wig aside, grinning down at the ‘Scot, shoving his foot into the ‘Scot’s throat.
the ‘Scot: I love you.
He manages to struggle out those words in between gasps of air. Logan nods, smiling, grinding his foot deeper into his neck. The ‘Scot does not try to struggle. He accepts the abuse – enjoying it, even. Eventually, the ‘Scot faints – a smile frozen on his unconscious face. Logan releases his foot, staring at the ‘Scot with an admiring gaze.
Logan: And for that – I love you too.
Logan takes his spot back into the chair, a deep relieving breath exhaled before he begins to speak.
Logan: That looked fun – didn’t it – Doc? I bet now, even as you watch, those little pants of yours are still down and wrapped around your ankles. You closed your eyes for a mere moment and imagined yourself in the ‘Scot’s position just before climaxing. Maybe – you enjoyed it more than I did. You see, for me, it isn’t sexual. No, it’s more than that. He’s my toy; simply put. My rag dog. Or to put it into words your fried chicken eating ass might understand… a slave. But, a more accepting slave – a loving obsessed one that will do whatever your heart desires. He’s a good dog. Everyone secretly wishes they had one. A person that embraces your feelings no matter how tragic or embarrassing. He is a rare breed. Do not let appearances fool you. Wanna borrow him?
Logan smirks.
Logan: I really enjoy abusing him, not only him, people in general.. it’s just my nature, my DNA. It’s what gets me off. Amuses me. Makes a bad day turn good. I no longer hide that – the ‘Scot helped me accept who I am, and, what I am.. is a monster, and I am not ashamed of it. I love me. M’m.. moving on. We sure had a little bit of fun last week didn’t we? I can remember the expression on your face still when I punched you in the hallway. That expression I speak of, that; what is going on, ow, fuck my face. Haha. And, then, yes, t-then, you attacked me later! Oh. Thank you. It’s been months since I have had this much fun. I certainly wasn’t getting this kind of entertainment from Jay Price anymore.
So, good job, Henry. You’re personally awarded the boudle of the week plank. And, when I was just starting to think that – that little punk Doc Henry didn’t have the balls to attack me – you showed up, interrupted my cup of coffee, and gave me a Gamblers Hand onto hard flat concrete. Deep down inside I was happy. I was because, then, I knew that anybody – ANYBODY – who had an ounce of sense would book us in a match.. and you see what happened? It worked. A cage match, even. That makes this just even more exciting. You and I. Doc Henry and the Face of Treachery.. surrounded by fencing, chain links, a steel cage.
Yup. It’s going to be a good start off on the Tour of Treachery! Biggest match next week, no doubt. You got Mr. WCF, Mr. Biggest Icon in WCF History, Mr. Ticket Master, Mr. ME… versus… that one guy.. Doc Henry – THE champion of cheap plastic fake confederate titles.
Haha. All jokes aside, Doc Henry. This is it. This is the collard green ass whooping. I handed out the tickets to the fans last week on Slam. EVERYONE will be there. The show is sold out. Packed house. That’s what happens when Face of Treacheries and five time world champions are booked. You may’ve beaten a couple note worthy boudles that WCF had to offer – you may’ve even beaten your true love, Johnny Reb, but, Doc Henry.. you have never beat.. me.
This, Doc Henry, is the biggest night of your life. You get a chance to get your hands on a true WCF original – me, Doc, me.. Logan – the only one that was here when WCF first opened it’s doors AND still is here today. I have been Mr. WCF since the very beginning, Doc, the VERY beginning. When babyWCF spoke it’s first words – I was there – when babyWCF shit it’s first pair of diapers – I was there – to clean babyWCF, change it’s diapers, and shove it right in Hellz Angels face.. DOC – I WAS THERE. I am probably the reason that babyWCF shit it’s diapers to begin with, but, I WAS THERE.
So, just remember Doc Henry, you aren’t only facing me this Monday – you’re facing eleven years of WCF. Eleven years, all balled up into a ass whooping package that they call the Face of Treachery! Can you beat me, Doc? Can you really beat me. Do you honestly have what it takes?
Logan stands from the chair and walks out of view from the camera. The camera picks up on snores from the ‘Scot before fading out.
Last Sunday, two days after XIII, WCF wrestler, Logan, sent a personal video feed to the e-mail of Jay Price… or what he believed was Jay Price’s ‘e-mail’. The e-mail address, jroc296@aol.com, was actually the address of a Jay Price fan. The fan received the personal intimate video and decided to upload onto YouTube rather than keeping it to himself. Below are the contents of this video.[/i]
The YouTube video begins playing. The footage displays Logan, seemingly sitting in front of a computer. The background behind him is dark, completely black, and the only light present is the computer screens glow that is shed on Logan’s face. He looks into the camera, then off, looking pretty relaxed and casual with himself. It’d be an easy assumption to think that Logan was in his home during the recording.
Logan: … Jay Price… man…
Logan swallows hard, but, manages to continue.
Logan: … we’ve been through a lot…
Shaking his head, Logan seemingly appears to be fighting back tears.
Logan: … honestly, though, man, from the bottom of my heart – despite all we’ve been through…
Logan nods – finding clarity in what he wants to say – then stares into the camera lens.
Logan: GOODBYE, BITCH! Hahaha.
Logan leans back in his seat, holding his sides, laughing.
Logan: Hahaha! You’re done. Finished. Logan vs Jay Price – officially written off in the record books. Case closed. And, hey, that match last Friday? HA. Man, I was toying with you that whole time. After the first pin fall I got on you, I started thinking.. really, is this all it takes? I carried you through the rest of the match. That dramatic little ending was on me – just giving the fans a good show. I tell you what, Price, you ain’t nothing. You got washed up faster than a pair of Good Will panties.
Again, Logan relaxes backwards, laughing to himself.
Logan: ‘The Future’ is a room at a nursing home by age twenty-six. You ALREADY retired? Haha. What’s next? Someone spoon feeding you apple sauce? Walking around shitting your pants wearing Grandpa diapers? Haha. Oh man. You’re pathetic. You could’ve at least been like Gravedigger and won the world title first before retiring. So, ha, that was ‘The Future’ goal when you first came into WCF? Win the TV belt. Suck Lerch off and get some fake Elite, Peoples titles that are not even recognized as a championship anymore because they sucked too much to continue when they were first created – and then – get your ass whooped by Logan? THAT was ‘The Future’ ambition coming in WCF?
Sarcastically, Logan begins clapping.
Logan: Congratulations.
The distinctive sound of a mouse click is heard – screen goes black.
Logan: What IS the heart of Virginia? I’ve lived here all my life. Is Virginia THE South? Most of the Civil War was fought here. The Capital of the Confederacy was Richmond, which, is in.. Virginia. So, what does it mean to be a southern man in today’s age? Generations have passed. Centuries have passed since the Civil War. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the population today probably don’t have a fuckin’ clue rather or not they had an ancestor in the Civil War, AND, if they did – which side were they on? I ask now; would it even matter?
Once more; I have lived here all my life. I’ve seen Richmond, Norfolk, Virginia Beach, Franklin, Fork Union, Chesapeake, Farmville, Crewe, Kenbridge, Suffolk, South Hill, Chase City, Chesterfield, you fuckin’ name a place in Virginia and I’ve been there at one time or another. So, again, I ask.. after all these years – why are people even still defined as ‘Southern’? Yes. I like fried chicken. Who doesn’t? I like my collard greens cooked with bacon, and, if I want.. I can go down the street from my house and buy a fried dill pickle.
But other than choice of food – what’s the difference between me and a boudle in New York eating a sauerkraut hotdog. H’m? Maybe there IS a difference.
Virginia – some of us – or where I am from - most of us, STILL find people from the North annoying. It’s all about manners. People from up North do not have them, plain and simple. You’ll find that people from the South do. It’s yes ma’am, no ma’am. Getting the door for the person in front of you or behind you. Respecting the fellow man and woman. Just, simply, being respectful through and through. It’s a culture. And anyone who isn’t from here sure would be in for one culture shock if they were to visit.
But, despite the fact that I am from Virginia, AND proud to be from Virginia – it doesn’t bother me pissing on someone’s grave, hitting a woman, kicking a helpless dog. I am the Face of Treachery. I have no value for the respect of human life. Being from the South refuses to encourage a yes ma’am or no ma’am on my part.
Simply put.. I do not like people. I hate them – rather from the South or the North. It’s petty from anyone in today’s age to even OWN a confederate flag. Oh, you’re mad that those Yankees burned down your house and stole your slaves? Get the fuck out of here. Your GREAT Granddaddy wasn’t even a sperm in someone’s ball sack when the Civil War was going on.
So, Doc Henry, after hearing this – you can honestly expect me to ask.. what’s the deal, bitch? Did you chop too much firewood as a ‘youngin’? Live off squirrel half your life? Is your Grandmomma’s recipe for fried chicken tattooed on your ass?! SHUT UP!
It doesn’t get anymore simpler than that. Here you are – a grown ass man – running around talking like you just survived the battle of Gettysburg AND just can’t fuckin’ wait to whip those Negros back into cotton-picking shape!
Do you even know a ‘person’ for that matter that’s income sources from… picking cotton? So, why the act? What’s your fuckin’ agenda? Is it even an act? Or- or – you just a lost boudle that feels comfortable in Colonial Sander neckties? M’m. Maybe I don’t what I am talking about, Doc. Maybe I have you wrong. I just call it like I see it. And, what I see; a big boudle representing an era, a generation, that ended hundreds of years ago and honestly – HONESTLY – has no idea what he truly is. You’re lost, Doc.
Let’s get a few things straight. I see past boudles like you. I think this whole Southern act, or better said.. ‘cover up’ is just a muse to hide from your true self. Deep down inside you enjoy the good company of a man… don’t you?
Pausing, Logan smirks, anxiously carrying on.
Logan: I watched Slam a few weeks ago. I seen that little hidden twinkle in your eye when you confronted the ‘Scot, and stuffed that little bottle of ketchup inside his pants. Did your hand ever so cleverly manage to innocently brush against his genital during that so called… ‘attack’? Ha, ha, ha. You’re not fooling anybody. No reason to be ashamed. It’s 2011. Everybody is doing it! M’m.. look at me? My personal assistant, my little toy is a transvestite, and you just love that don’t you? You’d like one yourself. Oh, yeah. You’ll hide behind homosexual jokes. Like Jay Price; you’ll question someone else’s sexuality just to further establish the false cover of your own.
But, deep down, behind the ain’t’s and yall’s – you just LOVE the penis, don’t you? Hehe.
Oh.. oh, and I bet.. that you’re probably so depressed that your precious Johnny Reb is on the bench and not on your lap. You’ve been up that guys ass his entire career. I recognize obsession – believe me – I’ve had my fair of such. To the day I still have a picture of Torture in my wallet. I love him. I hate him. For a long time I lived for him, my existence was for him. He was my Joker’s fuckin’ Batman. But, hey, we move on… or do we?
A wink is cut into the camera.
Logan: Don’t worry, Doc. Your boyfriend will return one day. And, when he does, you’ll be able to get right back into the heat of things like ‘yall’ never skipped a beat. M’m.. makes me a little jealous. What do you think Torture is doing right now? H’m – er – SHUT UP! Now, the present, that’s the focus. And just because that perhaps I see your world in a different light than others, the true light, perhaps, do not feel too embarrassed. Like I said – in this day and age – everyone is perfectly okay with YOU being YOU. If it’s the male privates that your taste buds crave then so be it – I’m not one to judge.
Logan’s locker room door busts open – and in pours the ‘Scot, literally, pours – he’s dancing in, shaking a Pabst Blue Ribbon all over the room, splashing beer everywhere.
the ‘Scot: Did someone just sayyy male privates?
Logan can’t help but laugh.
Logan: Hey, man – what’re you doing? Did the penisdar start beeping?
the ‘Scot: You know I can’t help –
Burp.
the ‘Scot: - myself. LOGAN!!!
The ‘Scot stumbles over towards Logan, however, stops short once noticing the camera.
the ‘Scot: Ohhh.. promo?
Logan nods.
the ‘Scot: For Doc Henry?
Logan nods, again.
the ‘Scot: What does Doc Henry have to do with male privates?
Logan: Well, ‘Scotty –
Pressing himself up from the chair, Logan seductively approaches the ‘Scot – which causes the ‘Scot to tremble and melt.
Logan: - I believe that Doc has a little secret.
Logan grabs the ‘Scot by the hands, interlocking his fingers with his, and pinning him into the wall.
Logan: M’hm. I.. firmly..
Playing on the word firmly, a tongue darts out and Logan wets his own lips. The ‘Scot squirms with desire. His biggest dreams finally coming true.
Logan: … believe that our friend is much like yourself.
Logan grins.
Logan: Yeah.
Releasing one of the ‘Scot’s hand, Logan begins lovingly petting the ‘Scot’s face. The ‘Scot’s eyes roll back into his head.
Logan: So much like you –
Logan’s demeanor changes immediately.
Logan: A… sick… twisted.. lost.. FREAK!
A gasp hits the ‘Scot’s lips. The petting dies, and Logan forcefully slaps the ‘Scot across the face – which triggers an emotionally driven orgasm on the ‘Scot’s behalf. Logan wraps his hand around the ‘Scot’s hair, throwing him down to the floor, ripping his body from his wig. Logan throws the wig aside, grinning down at the ‘Scot, shoving his foot into the ‘Scot’s throat.
the ‘Scot: I love you.
He manages to struggle out those words in between gasps of air. Logan nods, smiling, grinding his foot deeper into his neck. The ‘Scot does not try to struggle. He accepts the abuse – enjoying it, even. Eventually, the ‘Scot faints – a smile frozen on his unconscious face. Logan releases his foot, staring at the ‘Scot with an admiring gaze.
Logan: And for that – I love you too.
Logan takes his spot back into the chair, a deep relieving breath exhaled before he begins to speak.
Logan: That looked fun – didn’t it – Doc? I bet now, even as you watch, those little pants of yours are still down and wrapped around your ankles. You closed your eyes for a mere moment and imagined yourself in the ‘Scot’s position just before climaxing. Maybe – you enjoyed it more than I did. You see, for me, it isn’t sexual. No, it’s more than that. He’s my toy; simply put. My rag dog. Or to put it into words your fried chicken eating ass might understand… a slave. But, a more accepting slave – a loving obsessed one that will do whatever your heart desires. He’s a good dog. Everyone secretly wishes they had one. A person that embraces your feelings no matter how tragic or embarrassing. He is a rare breed. Do not let appearances fool you. Wanna borrow him?
Logan smirks.
Logan: I really enjoy abusing him, not only him, people in general.. it’s just my nature, my DNA. It’s what gets me off. Amuses me. Makes a bad day turn good. I no longer hide that – the ‘Scot helped me accept who I am, and, what I am.. is a monster, and I am not ashamed of it. I love me. M’m.. moving on. We sure had a little bit of fun last week didn’t we? I can remember the expression on your face still when I punched you in the hallway. That expression I speak of, that; what is going on, ow, fuck my face. Haha. And, then, yes, t-then, you attacked me later! Oh. Thank you. It’s been months since I have had this much fun. I certainly wasn’t getting this kind of entertainment from Jay Price anymore.
So, good job, Henry. You’re personally awarded the boudle of the week plank. And, when I was just starting to think that – that little punk Doc Henry didn’t have the balls to attack me – you showed up, interrupted my cup of coffee, and gave me a Gamblers Hand onto hard flat concrete. Deep down inside I was happy. I was because, then, I knew that anybody – ANYBODY – who had an ounce of sense would book us in a match.. and you see what happened? It worked. A cage match, even. That makes this just even more exciting. You and I. Doc Henry and the Face of Treachery.. surrounded by fencing, chain links, a steel cage.
Yup. It’s going to be a good start off on the Tour of Treachery! Biggest match next week, no doubt. You got Mr. WCF, Mr. Biggest Icon in WCF History, Mr. Ticket Master, Mr. ME… versus… that one guy.. Doc Henry – THE champion of cheap plastic fake confederate titles.
Haha. All jokes aside, Doc Henry. This is it. This is the collard green ass whooping. I handed out the tickets to the fans last week on Slam. EVERYONE will be there. The show is sold out. Packed house. That’s what happens when Face of Treacheries and five time world champions are booked. You may’ve beaten a couple note worthy boudles that WCF had to offer – you may’ve even beaten your true love, Johnny Reb, but, Doc Henry.. you have never beat.. me.
This, Doc Henry, is the biggest night of your life. You get a chance to get your hands on a true WCF original – me, Doc, me.. Logan – the only one that was here when WCF first opened it’s doors AND still is here today. I have been Mr. WCF since the very beginning, Doc, the VERY beginning. When babyWCF spoke it’s first words – I was there – when babyWCF shit it’s first pair of diapers – I was there – to clean babyWCF, change it’s diapers, and shove it right in Hellz Angels face.. DOC – I WAS THERE. I am probably the reason that babyWCF shit it’s diapers to begin with, but, I WAS THERE.
So, just remember Doc Henry, you aren’t only facing me this Monday – you’re facing eleven years of WCF. Eleven years, all balled up into a ass whooping package that they call the Face of Treachery! Can you beat me, Doc? Can you really beat me. Do you honestly have what it takes?
Logan stands from the chair and walks out of view from the camera. The camera picks up on snores from the ‘Scot before fading out.
Logan Says Goodbye
Last Sunday, two days after XIII, WCF wrestler, Logan, sent a personal video feed to the e-mail of Jay Price… or what he believed was Jay Price’s ‘e-mail’. The e-mail address, jroc296@aol.com, was actually the address of a Jay Price fan. The fan received the personal intimate video and decided to upload onto YouTube rather than keeping it to himself. Below are the contents of this video.[/i]
The YouTube video begins playing. The footage displays Logan, seemingly sitting in front of a computer. The background behind him is dark, completely black, and the only light present is the computer screens glow that is shed on Logan’s face. He looks into the camera, then off, looking pretty relaxed and casual with himself. It’d be an easy assumption to think that Logan was in his home during the recording.
Logan: … Jay Price… man…
Logan swallows hard, but, manages to continue.
Logan: … we’ve been through a lot…
Shaking his head, Logan seemingly appears to be fighting back tears.
Logan: … honestly, though, man, from the bottom of my heart – despite all we’ve been through…
Logan nods – finding clarity in what he wants to say – then stares into the camera lens.
Logan: GOODBYE, BITCH! Hahaha.
Logan leans back in his seat, holding his sides, laughing.
Logan: Hahaha! You’re done. Finished. Logan vs Jay Price – officially written off in the record books. Case closed. And, hey, that match last Friday? HA. Man, I was toying with you that whole time. After the first pin fall I got on you, I started thinking.. really, is this all it takes? I carried you through the rest of the match. That dramatic little ending was on me – just giving the fans a good show. I tell you what, Price, you ain’t nothing. You got washed up faster than a pair of Good Will panties.
Again, Logan relaxes backwards, laughing to himself.
Logan: ‘The Future’ is a room at a nursing home by age twenty-six. You ALREADY retired? Haha. What’s next? Someone spoon feeding you apple sauce? Walking around shitting your pants wearing Grandpa diapers? Haha. Oh man. You’re pathetic. You could’ve at least been like Gravedigger and won the world title first before retiring. So, ha, that was ‘The Future’ goal when you first came into WCF? Win the TV belt. Suck Lerch off and get some fake Elite, Peoples titles that are not even recognized as a championship anymore because they sucked too much to continue when they were first created – and then – get your ass whooped by Logan? THAT was ‘The Future’ ambition coming in WCF?
Sarcastically, Logan begins clapping.
Logan: Congratulations.
The distinctive sound of a mouse click is heard – screen goes black.
